The death of a child changes everything – including friendships. After my five-year-old son passed away in 2020, I expected grief, but nothing prepared me for what happened with my closest friend. She constantly pushed me to “move on,” while secretly creating a shrine to my child in her home.
Walking into her house months later, I froze. My son’s photos covered every wall – some I didn’t even remember taking. Then I saw his clothes neatly folded on her couch, his tiny shoes and socks carefully preserved in a box. When she casually mentioned my husband had given them to her, my world spun. Yes, we’d packed away his belongings as part of our painful healing process, but this felt like theft of memory. I took what belonged to my son and walked away, ending a friendship that had become something unrecognizable.
